The Pirate and the Feisty Maid-- Part One—At His Hand (2 page)

“Say it, sweet Molly. Tell me you want more.”
His hand sat idly on her rear, the heat of it against her reddened
cheek like a hot iron on her skin.

“More… please.” She forced herself to get the
words out, knowing he was fully capable of leaving her like this,
aching and desperate, for days if need be. She would rather beg and
plead than endure that hell.

He thrashed her bottom until it was hot and
swollen and she teetered on the edge of release, her tears running
freely down her cheeks. Then, with a quick and effortless move, he
had her sprawled on the bed on all fours, with his cock free of his
britches. One thrust into her throbbing wet sex had him buried to
the hilt, his hard shaft stretching her as his balls bounced off
her swollen clit. It took but a few deep strokes, his name torn
from her lips as she came and he joined her, his cock pumping its
hot seed into her, making her punishment and redemption
complete.

He tenderly gathered her to him and kissed
her tears away, leaving her content and happy, her heart and soul
finally complete now that she was in his arms once more. “Welcome
home, my love.”

Chapter Two

Molly drew Ronan a bath, knowing he’d want to
wash properly and have a soak. The tub was deep enough to float in
and large enough for four, lined in elaborate indigo tiles Ronan
had brought back from one of his travels. Luckily, hot water was
readily available on Aetheria, since the island sat atop a volcano.
It would’ve taken half the day to get the water heated properly
otherwise.

As Molly busied herself with preparing the
bath, her maid slipped in, a look of guilt on her beautiful face.
“Did he know?” Ilsa’s brow was drawn with worry, waiting for
Molly’s response.

“Doesn’t he always?” Molly took Ilsa’s hand
in hers, hoping to calm the poor girl. “Don’t go worrying yourself.
You know he’s not really cross with us.”

Ilsa looked at their hands. “Was it terribly
bad?”

Molly knew Ilsa was fully aware of all that
happened in the house, and couldn’t help but smile at her friend.
“You know the truth of it is that I fully enjoy it, though I don’t
think I’ll be sitting any time soon.”

When Ilsa looked at her with those big brown
eyes and full, soft lips, Molly couldn’t help but kiss her—the
gentle press of her lips a lovely contrast to Ronan’s rough
ravishment, still fresh on her mind.

“So, is this what ye get up to when I’m
gone?” The voice had them jumping apart as they turned to face
Ronan who stood there in nothing but his britches and boots, his
lithe and muscular torso exposed, the light glinting off the metal
pierced through his nipples. He did not comment further. “Has the
bath been drawn?”

He stepped up to Molly, just as Ilsa melted
away and slipped out of the room. Ronan’s arm went around her
waist, pulling her to him as he kissed her most thoroughly, his
beard tickling her skin. His tongue bullied its way past her lips
as she lost herself in his kiss, her need for him flaring into life
once more. His hands drifted to her bottom, cupping her cheeks to
pull her to him, his cock hard as it pressed up against her. She
sucked in her breath as he gave a squeeze, her arse still raw, the
pain rippling into pleasure.

Still holding her, he pulled away just enough
to look at her, mischief in his eyes as his lips tugged into a
whisper of a smile. “Did I care for yer needs so poorly that ye
feel it necessary to run into yer maid’s arms so soon after? Should
we call her back and she can show me how to satisfy ye?”

Molly shook her head no, mortified that he’d
think her not satisfied, and blushing at the thought of him
watching her with Ilsa. It wasn’t something he had ever done, yet
her mind couldn’t help but think of what it would be like. The
thought of Ronan watching her with Ilsa had her quim going wet once
more.

Pulling herself away from such thoughts, she
answered Ronan’s question, her arse already too sore to risk
another tawsing. “No, my love. I’d not meant anything by it.”

Her hand went up to cup his face, taking him
in— his thick beard, his bright blue eyes, his dark hair pulled
back and tied with a leather thong. She would never tire of looking
at him. Her entire being had ached for him while he was away.

“Come then.” He quickly undressed her,
letting her remove the remainder of his clothing, though when it
came time to climb into the bath, she hesitated. “What is it,
Molly?” His lips curled in a sly smile.

He knew damn well what it was, and she nearly
said so. The hot water against her freshly paddled arse would burn
like someone had set a torch to it, the mere thought of it enough
to make her entire body clench. She bit her bottom lip and stepped
into the bath, stopping just before her arse touched the water.

When he burst out laughing, she threw him a
stern look. “It’s not funny in the least.”

Yet it wasn’t long before she was half
laughing, half whimpering, as she lowered herself into the hot
water, going completely under to emerge dripping wet, her skin
eventually adjusting to the temperature.

She let him pull her in for a kiss. When he
spoke, his head bent to hers, his voice was heady and thick with
emotion. “Ye ken that I missed ye, aye?”

Cupping his face, her breath hitched as she
looked into those bright blue eyes of his, overwhelmed with the
love she felt for the man before her. “And I you.”

Unable to resist and still not quite
believing he was back, she kissed him until she was breathless and
dizzy with the want of him. He bit her lip and nuzzled her, and
then she reached for the soap. Ducking under the water, Ronan
emerged looking like Neptune himself, the water streaming down his
muscular form, her heart racing at the sight.

Taking the straight razor, she lathered his
beard and carefully started to shave it off with slow strokes of
the blade, the sound of the metal scraping against the coarse hairs
filling her head. Her heart pounded with the danger of it, and
soared to know he trusted her so completely. Normally clean-shaven
when on land, he shaved less frequently when at sea—just enough to
keep the sun on his face.

He turned his back towards her so that she
might wash his hair, and she obliged him, lathering the thick dark
curls before rinsing them. Her hands moved over his body, the soap
slick as she washed the salt and sweat from his skin, their bodies
sliding against each other in the hot water.

Needing him again she reached down and
stroked his hard length, but he stopped her when she went to mount
him.

“Not yet, love.”

***

Ronan ducked under the steaming hot water to
rinse himself off and then stood, stepping out of the bath. Taking
Molly’s hand in his, Ronan helped her step over the edge.

By the gods, he’d never seen anyone more
beautiful. The water streamed over her smooth skin as her mahogany
hair fell over the lush curves of her breasts, drawing his gaze
down to the flair of her hips. He ached to have her, especially
after so many months away, but knew that prolonging things would
only heighten their coming together when he did finally take her
again.

He picked up a towel and ran it over her skin
to dry her off, taking extra care to rub her nipples into hard
nubs, and to gently pat her still-red bottom. She moaned in
response and leaned against him.

His hard cock jumped at the fresh memory of
his hand stinging when it met her flesh and the way she twitched
while draped over his lap. He considered himself damn lucky that
she enjoyed such games, though he knew she would likely grow bored
and unhappy if such contests between them ever ended. She liked to
be challenged, and he loved to see her discover herself and come
into her own. There was no one more perfect for him, and he
couldn’t believe his luck in having her as his lover.

Of course, he’d asked Molly to marry
him—practically a month into their courtship—but she had tearfully
turned him down, even though he knew she truly loved him. With the
laws being what they were, Molly was fully aware that what little
wealth she had would become her husband’s should she marry. After
her stepfather left her and her mother destitute, he knew she was
leery to marry—and truth be told, he couldn’t blame her.

He’d push her to her limit in many ways, but
he’d not push her into a marriage she wasn’t ready for. With time,
he knew she’d eventually come around and agree to marry him. And,
lucky for them, the population of Aetheria—made up primarily of
pirates, criminals, whores and sea merchants—didn’t concern itself
with the conventions of society, so their relations mattered
not.

Tossing the towel aside, he headed for the
doorway, leaving Molly to follow. Ilsa was waiting in the hall lest
they need anything, but as they walked by, Ronan grabbed Ilsa by
the wrist, suddenly inspired after catching Molly kissing her maid.
Continuing towards the bedroom, he ignored the fact that the maid’s
eyes had gone wide. Though he liked Ilsa, his interest in her had
more to do with Molly, for he suspected the lasses might enjoy
themselves even in his presence.

Of course he knew Molly occasionally took
comfort in her maid’s arms when he was away, but he’d never seen
any outward displays of affection between the two of them—until
today. And it had him curious to see exactly what she got up to
when he was gone.

It’d be easy enough to ask Molly not to see
others and he knew she would hold true to their agreement. Yet he
also knew just how lonely she got when he was away, and he had no
reason to be jealous of her finding pleasure with Ilsa in his
absence. Not when he was the only one with a true claim on her
heart.

He led Ilsa towards the bed, but left her
standing there alone as he sat in the chair by the fire. Molly and
Ilsa looked at each other, clearly uncertain of what would happen
next. Yet wasn’t the uncertainty part of the thrill Molly craved?
For though it was clear Ilsa would likely be participating in their
games, things could certainly go in many directions.

However, he’d not make Ilsa an unwilling
participant. His men might think him brutal and demanding, but he’d
never force a woman. “Let me make myself clear, Ilsa. Ye need not
do any of this and ye need not fear retribution. And if ye change
yer mind at any point, that’s fine too. So… will ye stay,
lass?”

Though Ilsa was a quiet thing when around the
house, she held his gaze with a boldness he hadn’t expected, and
grabbed Molly’s hand. “Aye. I want to stay.”

“Very well, then.” He couldn’t help the smile
that tugged at his lips, amused to see the young lass so
determined. “Undress her, Molly.” It was an order rather than a
request.

“Ronan, please don’t.” A furious blush
painted Molly’s cheeks as she pleaded with him, clearly hoping she
could change his mind, even though they both knew she’d enjoy
herself.

“Molly, my love… need I ask ye twice?”

“No, m’ lord.”

***

Molly didn’t know what would follow once she
got Ilsa undressed, and she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to
be intimate with Ilsa as Ronan watched. Yet the very thought of it
had her quim throbbing, her slit already slick.

His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Molly,
my love… ye’re stalling. Are ye already in need of a reminder as to
what happens when ye disobey me?”

Her paddled arse pulsed as if in response to
his words. She stepped to Ilsa’s side and helped her out of the
simple cotton dress she wore, so her maid now stood before them
naked, trying to shield herself from Ronan’s stare with her
arms.

“Ye were not alone in disobeying me, Molly,
but ‘tis not I who’ll be punishing her. Sit down, and take her over
your knee. Ye’re to punish her, do ye hear? And I’ll not be happy
if it’s not done properly.”

Molly sat on the edge of the bed, giving Ilsa
a look of apology as their eyes met. The only way to get themselves
out of the situation would be for Ilsa to put an end to it. “Are
you sure, Ilsa?”

Ilsa brushed Molly’s cheek with a soft touch
of her slender fingers, before leaning in to give Molly a sweet,
lingering kiss. “I want to do this—I want to see what it’s
like.”

Then, before Molly could say anything more,
Ilsa draped herself over Molly’s knee. Though Ilsa had made her
decision, her body all but trembled with tension, for Molly knew
she’d not been thrashed before.

Molly’s heart raced. Never had she been on
this side of matters, and wasn’t sure she could manage. With one
final pleading look to Ronan, Molly steeled herself for the
inevitable and smacked Ilsa’s arse, the blows landing one after
another, her hand stinging hot. Each slap had Ilsa whimpering, her
arse twitching in the air, as if searching out the blow that would
fall next. Looking at Ilsa, Molly couldn’t help but think of what
she herself must look like when draped over Ronan’s knee. That
thought, coupled with the knowledge that Ilsa was enjoying her
punishment, made her quim tighten with need.

Not sure how long she should continue, she
looked up at Ronan to find a look of humor on his face, his hand
casually stroking his hard cock, the tip of it glistening
jewel-like with a drop of his seed. Molly’s body clenched at the
sight of him, wanting nothing more than for him to take her—to have
him take both her and her maid. When he spoke, his voice was deep
and breathy. “I think she’s had enough.”

Molly helped Ilsa onto the bed knowing the
girl would be unsteady on her feet, but she should have known that
would not be all. “Did she enjoy herself, my love? Tell me.”

Molly bit her lip, to keep from pleading with
him. Though she couldn’t help but notice her body’s reaction to his
presence, she still felt awkward and self-conscious to know he was
watching her with Ilsa.

With her heart racing and his eyes still on
her, Molly ran her hand gently up Ilsa’s thigh to her sex, and
slipped a finger into find the slit dripping wet. Ilsa moaned,
raising her arse while parting her legs to give Molly better
access.